Dreamer and Shadows
by Alaia Skyhawk
Summary: All stories begin somewhere, to weave themselves into the endless cloth of life that flows towards the future. Some threads stand out more than others, and in time can change the pattern of the cloth forever. This is the story of how one person created just such a change. A story of 'The Sandman' and the Fall of the Golden Age #Based on "Secret of Frost and Moon"#
1. A Beginning

**Alaia Skyhawk: SURPRISE! Yep, it's a NEW ROTG/Guardians of Childhood story, tied to my extremely popular "Secret of Frost and Moon". I've been waiting to start on this for quite a while, but needed to get up to a certain point in SF&M, or the opening scene of this would have been a spoiler (That said, bear in mind that if you've not read chapter 71 of that story, the opening scene of this has spoilers lol)**

**And so, without further ado, I declare that here is the first chapter of "Dreamer and Shadows" Enjoy :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians, the Guardians of Childhood, or any related characters etc. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes.**

Summary: All stories begin somewhere, to weave themselves into the endless cloth of life that flows towards the future. Some threads stand out more than others, and in time can change the pattern of the cloth forever. This is the story of how one person created just such a change. A story of 'The Sandman' and the Fall of the Golden Age.

~(-)~

Chapter 1: A Beginning

The little golden man smiled to himself, sighing in contentment as he watched the antics of his friends. The Guardians gathered around a table laden with food and drink for this celebration, of Tsar Lunar's silent declaration of his intent to build a New Golden Age.

Sandy glanced down at the moonsilver pin now fastened to his dreamsand neck-kerchief, feeling a sense of pride in wearing the 'G' that was his new badge of office. Likewise the others held themselves with a similar unspoken confidence, hands straying now and then to the belt/sash/bandoleer/cloak that they'd been given bearing that same symbol.

By far the once making the most noise right now was Jack, whose new silvery-blue cloak didn't exactly match his hoodie although he certainly didn't care about that. Instead he was cracking jokes, poking fun at Bunny, and in occasional moments of quiet he'd glance at the guest of honour to make sure he didn't need anything.

That guest was what made Sandy smile the most, and his presence helped heal a hurt and sense of failure that had dwelt in him for so very long... Kosmotis; now freed from the Fearlings and no longer possessed by the personality that had been the Nightmare King. Freed to rebuild a life beside his daughter, Mother Nature, and to forge a new path and future for himself as the Steward of Natural Fear. Chosen by fate, it seemed, to help ensure that the Fearlings that had enslaved him for so long, could never harm anyone ever again.

Sandy sighed once more, wistful with memories. Able to see the differences between Kosmotis' present uncertainty and tentativeness, and the confident and courageous general he'd been so long ago. He would be that man again, given time to heal. Yet the memories remained, lingering like a faint melody in the mind, as Sandy closed his eyes and nodded off to sleep. To dream of how far he'd come, and how much he himself had changed. Since that day so very long ago when his own story had first begun...

~(-)~

As is generally the case with most stories, they have to have a beginning. And as is generally the case in numerous stories about people, they begin on the day the person was born.

For the individual who would one day be known as 'The Sandman', this was just the case. Yet his birth was not of any particular significance, being one of many similar ones that day, nor was it celebrated with fireworks or fanfare. The only cheers and tears of joy came from his parents. And of course there were the various relatives, midwives, and nurses who came and went to coo over 'how cute and precious' he was.

Now you would think a baby would be pleased at all this attention, blinking up at you and gurgling as they wriggle in their mother's arms. But in truth all infants stare at you because they are _completely confused_ by this extremely strange turn of events. For until this moment they had know and solved all the secrets of the universe, those being the following.

The universe is warm, sort of floaty, and dark. It bumps around a little from time-to-time, and weird noises can be heard coming from the walls on a regular basis. It was also a particular size perfect to curl up in nice and still, or to wriggle in if one so chose... And lastly, there were _never_ any surprises...

Until after nine months the universe decides that your eviction notice is due, and you are shoved without ceremony into an alternate realm where absolutely _nothing_ makes sense anymore.

Yep, happy birthday.

It is at this point that an infant begins to reassess things. For surely, they realise, they have heard some of these strange beings through the walls of the universe. They then begin to ponder the scientific implications of this discovery, until a previously never-experienced thought interrupts their internal debate and all else from the previous nine months is forgotten forever.

And the thought? Well, it generally falls into one of three categories:

'I'M HUNGRY! FEED ME NOWWWWWW!'

'I'M WET AND SMELLY! SOMEBODY DO SOMETHING!'

'BLOODY HECK, IT'S DRAUGHTY OUT HERE!'

...And yet in the case of one Sanderson Imannuel Snoozie, the thought was this.

'Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.'

Little Sanderson was not concerned with his sudden change of environment, nor was he particularly confused about it. He had not solved the mysteries of the universe, but rather had sat in his warm little place and wondered what it could be that made the noises outside. He'd also begun to contemplate the possibility of going to see what they were at some point, if only he could figure out how to get there. And so when his eviction notice came due and he found himself confronted with strange faces and cooing noises, his priorities took a sudden change.

He wasn't bothered about finding out what the noises were anymore, because they turned out not to be that big a deal. All he was interested in now, was sleeping. Which he did, wrapped up nice and warm in a nice soft blanket, held in his mother's arms.

Lillia Ann Snoozie gazed at her child, wearing the soft smile of a mother who was marvelling at the little one she had just brought into the world. Her little golden boy, with his cute tuft of wispy blond hair. She wasn't completely sure what colour his eyes were yet, they'd been open for only a few moments before her son had yawned and promptly fallen asleep. But from that brief glimpse she believed they were the same amber as the boy's father, who at this very moment now came through the door of this bright and airy room in the 'Welcome Centre for Newly Arrived Infants'.

She smiled, holding out their son.

"He's here, Jason. Isn't he just perfect?"

Jason Petrell Snoozie gently took hold of his son, to gaze at him with the proud smile of a new father.

"Asleep already? The trip must have tired him out."

Roused by being passed to his father, the child chose that moment to open his eyes again. Revealing that they were indeed the same amber as his father, who he seemed to squint at for a few seconds before yawning and closing his eyes again.

Lillia chuckled.

"Maybe."

She got up from her chair, and reached for the bag which the midwife had already re-packed for her. Lillia wasn't stiff from the labour, or even particularly sore. Not after being tended by a midwife with a Certificate of Excellence in the use of Belief to aid the arrival of children. She had simply helped Lillia to believe, as she did, that the effort wouldn't be too tiring, that everything would go swiftly and well, and that the child would be just fine when he arrived. And so, in the way of Belief when used right, that was exactly what had happened.

Within minutes the Snoozies were walking out of the Welcome Centre for Newly Arrived Infants, to where Mr Snoozie had parked his flying carriage. No sooner than they had then climbed in, than the vehicle had spread its feathered wings and soared up into the air. Needing nothing more from the driver than the name of the destination, to send it skimming up amongst the clouds which were dotted with many other marvellous and varied flying carriages.

Below them were rolling green hills, lush with flowers that glittered with magic, and retreating to the distance behind them were the dazzling white crystal spires of the City of Lunestra where they'd been just a short while before. The entire scene, from horizon to horizon, framed against the sky for which this world was best known.

For only on Lumeris would one find a sky that in daytime was blue near the horizon and yet an eternal star-scape higher up. And even at night the horizon never darkened completely, instead transforming into shimmering curtains of gold and silver. Like a crown to hold up the stars and the three moons passing overhead.

A fitting world to be the home of the Lunanoffs, the oldest and greatest of the Constellation Families. Wise leaders, all, and creators of the Immortals who were guides and teachers that watched over the worlds under each family's care. For this was the Golden Age, where no mortal had known fear or suffering in all of living memory. A great time of magic, the Power of Belief. Of imagination and inspiration, of joy and peace.

Little Sanderson was to grow up knowing nothing else but that happy life, blessed by the good fortune of being born in such a benevolent and wonderful time. Free to pursue whatever dreams he might have, to be whatever he decided he wished to be, just as all children in the Golden Age were free to do.

And for Lillia and Jason, that too was exactly what they expected and wished for their son. Blissfully unaware of the shadows lurking beyond the light of their idyllic lives, and of the unusual role their son would one day play in the future to come.

~(-)~

**Alaia Skyhawk: And there you have it. Baby Sandy is such a cute little bugger lol. I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter :)**


	2. Old Stories of Fear

**Alaia Skyhawk: Chapter 2! :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians, the Guardians of Childhood, or any related characters etc. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes.**

~(-)~

Chapter 2: Old Stories of Fear

There was a quiet snuffle from the corner of the room, and the 'nest' of blankets on the floor there. A head of tufted golden hair just within view amid the cloth. From the comfortable couch nearby, Lillia and her friend Meredith both glanced towards the sleeping child and smiled.

As it was with all children in the Golden Age, or in fact anywhere, the first year wasn't all that eventful. Besides First Smile, First Laugh, First Crawl, First Word, the rest of the time consisted of eat, sleep, and once they were old enough to do so, play. This had been the case for the now one-year-old Sanderson, although he seemed to do rather more of the sleeping part than most youngsters.

Meredith chuckled, lifting the cup of tea she held up to her lips. Sipping from it before turning her regard back to the boy's mother.

"He really is adorable. I remember when my boy was that age. Into everything, and we had to move so many things up onto shelves."

Lillia chuckled also.

"We've never had that problem with Sanderson. He rarely cries, has a laugh like cloud-bells, and yet he's never noisy."

Meredith nodded, looking again at the boy.

"Truly. I don't think I've ever seen him awake. He seems to spend so much time sleeping."

There was a pause, one that could perhaps be considered hesitation, that is until Lillia raised her head proudly. This was an era where nothing different was ever considered odd.

"He sleeps for most of the day and night, yet he always seems to know when something is about to happen. I can get up to go make his food when it's mealtime, and before I'm even halfway to my feet he's awake and watching me. He always wakes up just before his father arrives home from work, and whenever someone goes to check and see if he'd like to play."

Meredith gasped in admiration.

"Do you think he might have an unusual talent? Maybe even talent for Belief Magic?"

For people in a civilisation where the Power of Belief and the magic that used it, was such a huge part of everyday life and supported the Immortals who watched over everyone, that talent for it was always enthusiastically nurtured. Even those without that skill themselves, never felt jealous of those who did. It wasn't in the nature of their way of life to consider those talented in that way to be superior. Everyone was special in their own way.

Still, no mother was going to deny feeling great pride should a child of hers be just such a person.

Lillia clasped her hands before her, her eyes glistening as she began to imagine all the wonderful things her son might learn to do.

"His father can use Belief to float huge crates and other things into the tradeships that head off to the other constellations. Why he could even float our flying carriage home without it ever having to fly for itself. I so look forward to learning what Sanderson decides he wants his talent to be."

Over in the corner of the room, a certain little boy snuffled again. Not sure what to make of the conversation, when it had so many big words in it that he didn't understand yet. But his mother was happy, and so was the 'lady who comes and talks', so it had to be good.

Contrary to his mother and everyone else's interpretation, Sanderson did not actually spend most of his time asleep. For while he may have forgotten everything from those first months in that other 'universe', during his first year in this one he had learnt to do the most peculiar thing. Being asleep and awake at the same time.

This was how he managed to doze through the boring bits of the day, without ever missing the interesting bits. And all the while he still noticed what else was going on while his eyes were closed.

Speaking of which, he noticed his little stack of building blocks were still piled on the floor nearby. And in fact they were rather interesting right now to his very young mind. With that thought, he opened his eyes and went from asleep to awake between one breath and the next. Suddenly launching himself into a crawl from his nest of blankets and over to the blocks, as fast as his short chubby lets would propel him.

For his arms and legs already looked somewhat short for his body, as day-by-day it was becoming increasingly clear that he was taking after his paternal grandfather in the height department. His grandfather being a short and rather rotund fellow, with a personality easily four times his size. Naturally he was inordinately pleased to learn his grandson shared that likeness, for it had always been his saying that 'the smaller the fellow, the bigger the character'. After all, in his case that was certainly true.

Of course Sanderson was too young to know of or understand any of all that. All he cared about was that right now he was having fun with his brightly coloured blocks. That spate of play lasting about fifteen minutes before he crawled back to his blanket-nest and went back to awake-sleep to wait for 'Daddy home, food time'.

Meredith left not long after that, and Lillia went into the kitchen to begin cooking a meal ready for when her husband would arrive home. In fact Sanderson was sleep-listening to her humming while she cooked, when he sat up suddenly and crawled towards the front door just as his father opened it.

"Da!"

That cheerfully chirped syllable brought a wide smile to Jason's face, as he reached down to scoop up his son and give him a cuddle.

"There's my little man. You been good for your mother today?"

Sanderson didn't reply, not with words at least. Rather he chortled happily in response to Jason's greeting, and waved his arms around enthusiastically.

His father set the boy down by his toy blocks, just as Lillia came to the kitchen door.

"The food will be ready in a few minutes."

Jason went to her and kissed her on the cheek, sparing a glance at his son before nudging her back into the kitchen. Sanderson watched them go, mildly puzzled by the fact his father had suddenly seemed a bit nervous.

Not really making much of it, he began to play with his blocks while in the kitchen his father had a glimmer of something in his eyes that wasn't supposed to exist in the Golden Age. Lillia saw it, a flicker of the same appearing in her eyes, as she quickly turned to the stove and stirred the stew she was cooking.

"Dream Pirates again?"

There was a tremor in her voice, only now identifiable as fear, and Jason sighed with a similar tremor.

"Over in the Constellation Aristirius. One of the leisure clippers was doing a tour of the Sapphirr Nebula... All the children on board had their dreams stolen, and haven't been able to dream since. The rumour that came in with that news on the tradeship, also said it could be more than a year before those poor children will be healed and can dream again."

Lillia turned off the heat under the pan, and turned to hug her husband.

"Dream Pirates aren't supposed to be real anymore. The Old Stories say that the Constellation Families drove them away and made them disappear. Why have they come back now?"

Jason wrapped his arms around her, his heart heavy with the other rumours he'd heard from other ships that had come to port. Neither of them had been raised to deal with this sort of thing. Until the stories had started coming in a few months ago, both had been blissfully ignorant.

"One sailor who came in, was on the clipper when the Dream Pirates attacked. He said saw shadowy wisps, with empty dark faces like lost souls. They circled round the clipper the day before the attack, almost like they led the pirates to it."

Another name from the Old Stories rose in both their minds, and it made them shudder. Fearlings; bringers of nightmares and devourers of fear. Everyone had heard of them from the Old Stories, but no one had believed they were real. They couldn't be real, because fear wasn't something that existed anymore, was it? But did denying something could be real, mean you were afraid of it being real? If so then fear was real, and so were Fearlings. The mere mention of the name and news that someone had seen them, had awakened in all who learnt of it the fear that the creatures could be lurking in any shadow anywhere. There was no way of knowing if they were watching you.

In the other room, Sanderson could hear the change in the tone of his parent's voices. It confused him, for he had no comprehension of the concept of fear. Joy he understood, love, and all-round general happiness. Never before had he noticed these things he didn't yet know were called 'nervousness' and 'fear'.

He remained puzzled throughout 'food time', confused by the tension he sensed from his parents despite the game they played to feed him. Their smiles didn't reach their eyes.

And that night when they put him to bed, they left the light turned on and placed another light under his crib to dismiss the shadow that would have been there. Their son blinking in confusion as the bright glow meant he couldn't see the glowing curtain of the night-lights on the horizon through his window.

Sanderson grumpily eyed the light overhead once his parents had closed the door. The little boy pulling his blanket over himself to block out as much of the annoying light as possible as he went to sleep.

~(-)~

**Alaia Skyhawk: The very early years of Sandy's childhood I'm naturally going to skip over most of except for when plot-points happen. The real plot doesn't get going until he's about ten :)**


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